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by SydneyFlaire



Series: Bayani Universe [14]
Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018)
Genre: Angst birthday, Commemoration of the dead, Death, Guilty Conscience, guilty, remembering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 15:20:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16579064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydneyFlaire/pseuds/SydneyFlaire
Summary: Running away had never been the best course of action; nor it had been the first resort to head on to. Miong was at fault with too many things. But there was one thing that he was so guilty that even his birthday (March 22) was tainted with an overload of regrets.





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**Author's Note:**

> The third one-shot as part of the #GoyoAngstStories.  
> You can also see my works on wattpad and fanfiction as "SydneyFlaire".  
> Follow me on twitter @JerseyLeigh for more updates. ;)

It was the thirteenth day of the eleventh month of 1899 when all hell broke loose. People back then were superstitious of the number, just as how he was raised to believe. But November 13 of that year was a Monday, and it had just been part of the successive fall-outs of the Republic they’ve built.

It was just like a few days ago that he received a letter of report that there was nothing to be worried about; but Tarlac still had fallen. And the next target was Dagupan. Though he had sent a letter to the Boy General there, saying that he must remember what his Tio Selong always said, it doesn’t seem to sink in quite properly to him.

That was why they were in the running. _Now._

Who would know that the events of peace could just be taken with just a simple snap? And it had been too well that he had delivered such a greeting before all these hardships, because it had been too late at the time that he had a sense of how fast the days had been.

Miong looked back for a second to the remaining group that he has. The exhaustion and stress had been visible, especially to the trailing soldiers who’ve been part of the Brigada del Pilar. The despair on them was also evident. It was a good thing that the women had been spared, and all he could see right now were soldiers from Bulacan and Manila.

Today was his thirty-first birthday, and no one anticipated that they were to celebrate this occasion on this fashion. After all, Christmas came and went with them still on the run.

_He remembered General del Pilar smiling vibrantly and proudly when the latter received him during his visit once at Dagupan. The Boy General was so pure of life and he would say that it was a good thing that he had grabbed the opportunity when it had presented itself back then._

_He was a little faint-hearted when he heard about the short-lived romance between his general and his sister. It had been decided already by fate that there wasn’t any chance; and he knew upon seeing the Boy General that the latter was madly in love with the daughter of Don Nable José. The celebration had proven that; such intimate of a dance, the small talks, the stolen smiles, and the lingering eye contacts._

Miong sighed heavily and asked one of the nearby soldiers the moment that their company had decided to rest for a second, “Bakit sinusunod niyo pa rin ako? Lalo na ngayon na wala akong ibang magawa para sa inyo kundi idamay kayo sa pagtakas?”

The soldier froze, blinking away tears of memory. “Para kay Heneral.”

He closed his eyes as if to break away from the harsh truth that they’ve been running from. He suddenly remembered everything about the late general, especially the last happy moments.

_He remember pulling the general from the great festivity for a second and said his greeting; which surprised the young man._

Dr. Barcelona stood from the circle of gathered soldiers, raising his glass for a toast. He remarked, “Para sa mga sundalo ng Bulacan… para sa katapangan ni Heneral Gregorio del Pilar…”

Miong reluctantly raised his own glass. Guilty as charged.

“Sa kanyang kabayanihan at sakripisyo sa Pasong Tirad para sa Presidente ng Republika,” continued the doctor, turning to face him then. “Maligayang kaarawan, Señor Presidente.”

He nodded before finally finishing his own drink. But afterward, when he trailed his eyes on the soldiers… he noticed all of them weeping. Most of then mumbling their grief upon opening old wounds.

_“Señor Presidente,” the Boy General called, a little surprised of what was going on._

_“Maligayang kaarawan, Goyong,” he greeted out of the blue._

_The Boy General was taken aback before smiling of great relief after a few seconds. “Maraming salamat, Señor Presidente.”_

Who would have thought that it would be the last great memory of happiness? Who would have thought that it would be the start of his own condemnation of sins?

There’s only two possibilities about life—it’s either you die as a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

Emilio Aguinaldo carried the guilt of Gregorio del Pilar’s death for the next sixty-three years of his life.


End file.
